Legend of the Seeker
by Duskborn
Summary: "Before I say anything else, I want it on record that this was completely and provably not my fault. Sure, the Potter Luck may have contributed a little, but Hermione should have known better than to drop a mysterious magical artefact in my lap." Experimental WIP. Multi-Cross. Slash. Pairing Undecided.


**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own **Harry Potter, Mass Effect,** or **Halo.** They, and any other intellectual properties that may appear in this work, belong to their respective owners.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** : This is an incomplete work in progress, and I make no promises about its continuation. If I do decide to complete it, be warned that it _will_ include a **slash** pairing. This pairing is currently undecided, but I'm leaning towards either Harry/Vega or Harry/CloneShep. Whatever it ends up being, it will _not_ be Harry/MShep, because John Shepard and Kaiden Alenko are soulmates, and nobody will convince me otherwise.

With all that in mind, I present to you:

 **LEGEND OF THE SEEKER**

 **BOOK 1: PART 01**

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 23, 2175

Things are starting to look up.

Sort of.

I mean, I'm still stranded on an alien planet with a poisonous atmosphere, and no clear idea of how to get home; I still don't have a wand, which means 98% of the magic I spent years learning is useless, and this planet's ambient magic is almost completely incompatible with my own, so the remaining 2% that I _can_ use wandlessly is so underpowered that it may as well be useless anyway; and I still can't use my alchemy, because even if I had the internal reserves to do anything impressive, most of my arrays rely on manual _Comprehension_ , and I know fuck all about this _alien planet._

But!

If you ignore all that, then things are starting to look up.

Kind of.

At least now I know roughly when and where I am. It's December 23rd, in the year 2175, and I am on a planet called Sidereus, in the Galilei System, which itself is located in the Kepler Verge of the Attican Traverse. I learned all this shortly after discovering that I am not the first person, or even the first human, to arrive on this planet. That honour apparently belongs to ExoGeni, an Earth-based corporation that specialises in planetary exploration and colonisation.

Amazing how far we've come in only a hundred and eighty odd years, huh?

Regrettably, this discovery didn't come in the form of a living, breathing human with the answers to all my problems, but from the partially decomposed body of the late Dr. Laurel Castleman, who crashed her HE-22 Scientific Survey Pod when she bled out from a wound in her side that looks suspiciously like the kind made by bullets, a few hours' walk from where I landed on this hell-hole. Which is, yes, terribly tragic for her and her family, but also very fortunate for me, because the pod had a small cache of emergency supplies, including food, water, a set of thermal overalls, a full-face breath mask, and the very nifty gadget I'm playing with right now.

It's called an omni-tool, and according to the very comprehensive tutorial mode, it's a multi-purpose diagnostic and manufacturing tool containing a computer microframe, sensor analysis pack, and minifacturing fabricator. It's got about a million applications, including an interactive digital assistant called an ADV.I.S.R. – Advanced Interactive Support Resource – and access to an extensive encyclopaedia.

And, obviously, a diary function. I'm not really sure why I'm recording this, to tell you the truth. Catharsis, maybe? To get it out of my head so there's room for more important things? I guess it doesn't really matter one way or another. I'm already doing it, and at least this way there'll be a record of what happened if I don't make it out of this.

Before I say anything else, though, I want it on record that this was completely and provably _not my fault._

Sure, the Potter Luck _may_ have contributed a little, but after seven years of personal experience with it and another eight of anecdotal evidence, Hermione should have known better than to drop a mysterious magical artefact of unknown potency and purpose in my lap. Especially since I had literally just finished filling her in about my latest misadventure and the sequence of ridiculously improbable events that led up to it.

Honestly, everyone and their niffler knows that putting me in close proximity to anything interesting almost guarantees that it will go either incredibly wrong, amazingly right, or most likely, both at the same time. Just look at my last attempt at a working vacation; all I wanted to do was visit a few people down in Mexico City and maybe get some insight into the alchemical workings of Aztec Gold; instead, I somehow stumble into a rather magnificent clusterfuck involving an ancient Aztecan vampiress, an inept tomb-raiding wizard, a necromantically inclined were-jaguar, several skinless inferi, and something that may or may not have been an actual god.

And all I did was offer to buy a particularly handsome bloke a drink.

So really, if anyone's to blame for this mess, it's the fully-trained Unspeakable who not only took her work home with her, but thought it would be a _fantastic_ idea to throw it at her inebriated best friend, on the highly questionable justification that, ' _Hey_ , _you're an_ alchemist _! Maybe you can help me figure this out._ '

Yeah, I figured it out, all right.

Guess what, Hermione! That oh-so-mysterious artefact you just _had_ to show me? You know, the one that sort-of looks like the fancy Rubik puzzle thing I bought Rosie for her birthday last year? I know exactly what it does: it drags completely unsuspecting wizards a hundred and eighty-three years through time, across half a bloody galaxy, and then dumps them on flat on their back _stark fucking naked!_

Needless to say, you're going to be in _so much trouble_ if I make it out of this. In fact, I've decided why I'm recording this, after all; it's so that if I manage to get back to you all, I'll have an exact accounting of just how much trouble you're going to be in.

My vengeance will be the stuff of legends and nightmares.

So, with matters of fault and blame mostly settled, at least for the moment, I'll start at the beginning, which, for me, started about six hours ago;

I had just gotten back from Mexico City, more than a little scuffed around the edges after my last encounter with the entity calling itself Mixcoatl, when Hermione invited me to have dinner with her and Ron. I hadn't seen my best friends in a few months, and I didn't have any other plans beyond a very hot shower and a very long nap, so I took her up on the offer, and showed up on their doorstep later that evening with a bottle of elf wine and a bag of presents to put under the tree.

We spent most of the evening swapping stories and catching me up on the little things I'd missed while I was overseas. I told them about Itzpapalotl, the Aztecan vampire priestess who somehow got it into her head that I was the reincarnation of an ancient warrior, sent by the gods to fight a newly awakened Creature of Darkness and Doom, and they told me about the tedious case of black market trafficking that had Ron working overtime for weeks, and the strange artefact Hermione had found on an archaeological dig in the Mediterranean.

On a side note, Fleur is expecting again, so I should see about finding her and the baby something nice if I get home.

Anyway, with Rose and Hugo at the Burrow for the night, the three of us retired to the sitting room and cracked open the bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky I bought them for Christmas the previous year. Added to wine we had already had at dinner, and we were all fairly tipsy soon after. It was at this point that Hermione had her stroke of drunken genius and flitted off to her office, returning a few minutes later with the artefact in hand.

The artefact. It was a small little thing that looked like two intersecting tetrahedrons, made from a dark alloy I didn't recognise. I didn't get a chance to have a good look at it, because the moment Hermione dropped it in my hand, my entire body burned _icy-hot-cold,_ and suddenly I was falling in every direction through this... endless nothingness, is the only way I can think to put it. It was dark beyond an absence of light, and a silence beyond an absence of sound - like light and sound were concepts that simply _couldn't_ exist there. And yet somehow, I still saw and heard... _things_ , images and voices.

I don't remember all of it, but what I do remember is, well, horrifying isn't a strong enough word for it, but I'm not going to try and find a better one, because frankly, I'm doing my best to pretend the whole thing didn't happen, at least for the moment. Incidentally, Hermione, _this_ is one of the things I'll be getting you back for, since I thought I was well and truly _done_ having dark visions before all this, thank you very bloody much.

In any case, the trip ended almost as abruptly as it started. One moment, I'm falling through the void, and the next, I'm laid out on a carpet of glowing moss, staring up at a violet-blue gas giant through a canopy of bioluminescent leaves, wondering what the bloody fucking hell had just happened. It didn't take me long to get an idea, though, because the moment I took a breath, which felt a little like setting my lungs on fire, the alchemical arrays tattooed around my throat activated.

For those of you who don't know, Earth's atmosphere is comprised of 78.09% nitrogen, 20.95% oxygen, 0.93% argon, and 0.04% carbon dioxide, with a smattering of other gases for flavour. This planet's atmosphere, on the other hand, has a much higher percentage of carbon dioxide, nearly 18%, and a significant amount of hydrogen sulfide, both of which makes the air extremely dangerous to humans. The kind of dangerous that leaves a man unconscious in twenty seconds, and dead in four minutes.

Fortunately for me, at least in this instance, Nick had me spend a few months of my apprenticeship studying under Professor Aldus Huxley, the Head of Alchemical Science at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, who in addition to being one of the foremost experts on gas transmutation, also had an alarming tendency to flood his lab with toxic fumes. Despite that though, he taught me more than a few tricks for dealing with hostile atmospheres, including the automatic respiration and filtration arrays tattooed around my neck.

Ever been kicked in the chest by an angry hippogriff, and then forced to swallow it whole, feathers and all? Well, that's roughly what it feels like to have your lungs forcefully purge of gas, scoured for impurities, and then rapidly re-inflated with alchemically filtered air. It's not at all pleasant, but it works.

Then, once I was done gasping and coughing, I tried to stand up, only to find the task a lot harder than it should have been. You see, not only is this planet's atmosphere 30% denser than Earth's, its gravity is also 25% lighter. Increased air density means increased air resistance, which in turn means an increase in the force required to move through it, while reduced gravity means that objects weigh less per unit of mass, and therefore require less force to move. Put the two together and... Well, let me put it this way, I was trying to move 63.7 kilograms worth of mass using the same amount of energy it would take to move 85 kilograms, against the same kind of resistant you'd expect from a strong wind. The end result: I would have made a drunken baby giraffe would look downright graceful.

It took a fair bit of staggering around and tripping over my own feet, and the use of more than a few words and phrases that I will never admit to knowing, especially in a medium that might find its way to Molly if I make it back, but I eventually figured out how to move around without falling flat on my ass.

On the heels of nearly suffocating in a toxic atmosphere, and coupled with the sight of the very large gas giant filling the sky, the experience hammered home the fact that be it by accident or design, Hermione's latest pet project had somehow transported me to a different planet, and without any of the magic paraphernalia I'd had on my person. I have no way of knowing if it was all destroyed during transit, or if the artefact simply left it all behind, but either way, the end result was the same either way; no spell-resistant clothing or fully-stocked mokeskin pouch, and more importantly, no wand.

Just me in my birthday suit.

Thankfully, after living through the comedy of errors that is my life, I wasn't complete unprepared for this kind of thing. Granted, nobody _expects_ to dropped on an alien planet, but it wasn't the first time I've been absconded with by an enchanted object, or found myself stranded somewhere without help, or even the first time I've been dumped in the wilderness without a wand.

Yes, yes, I've had some interesting times, mostly of the Chinese curse variety, which is - HOLY SHIT!

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./GALILEI SYSTEM

NAME: Galilei System

LOCATION: 60, 000 light years from Earth, Kepler Verge, Attican Traverse

POPULATION: 3 stars (designations: Galilei Alpha, Galilei Beta, and Galilei Gamma), three inner planets (designations: Galilei I, Galilei II and Galilei III), an asteroid belt (designation: Vincenzo Belt), four outer planets (designation: Galilei IV, Galilei V, Galilei VI, and Galilei VII), and various other small system bodies.

CIRCUMSTELLAR HABITABLE ZONE: Approx. 1.317 AU

DESCRIPTION:

Trinary star system, two G-type main-sequence stars, Galilei Alpha and Beta, and one M-type Red dwarf star, Galilei Gamma. G-Alpha is the largest of three stars, approximately 20% larger than Sol, and serves as the system primary. G-Beta is abut 15% smaller than sol, and darker than G-Alpha due to a lower temperature. G-Gamma is a red dwarf, only 20% the size of Sol, and less than half its temperature.

Galilei I is the smallest and innermost planet in the Galilei System. It is classified as a terrestrial planet with a radius that is 0.64 times that of Earth's. It maintains an eccentric orbit between 0.43 and 0.59 AUs, with a period of 99 Earth days. Galilei II is a terrestrial planet with a radius 0.911 that of Earth, with a circular orbit of 0.92 AUs. Galilei III, with a radius 9.2 times that of Earth, is the largest inner planet and second overall within the Galilei System. Classified as a gas giant, it maintains a stable orbit at 1.31 AUs from the system primary, which falls within Galilei's Circumstellar Habitable Zone. It has 14 satellites, two of which possess nitrogen-oxygen atmospheres.

Separating the inner and outer planets is the Vincenzo Belt, a moderately populated asteroid belt which orbits between 2.52 and 3.78 AUs. It is comprised primarily of refractory rocks, metallic minerals, and small quantities of ice.

Galilei IV is the largest planet in the Galilei System. Classified as a gas giant, it has a radius 11.25 times that of Earth, and maintains an eccentric orbit between 4.15 and 4.34 AUs. It has 23 terrestrial moons, none of which possess significant atmospheres.

Galilei V, Galilei VI, and Galilei VII are classified as ice giants, with radii of 4.07, 3.88 and 2.35 that of Earth, respectively. All three maintain stable orbits between 18 and 23 AUs, and possess several terrestrial moons, though none possess significant atmospheres.

DISCOVERY:

The Galilei System was originally chartered in 2172 by the ISV Wayward Son, an independent survey ship under the command of Former Alliance Captain Kieran Evans. The Wayward Son ran cursory scans of the six planets outside of the CHZ. These scans indicated the presence of useful gases and minerals, but not in significant quantities to warrant mining operations. Galilei III and its satellites, being within the CHZ, were subject to in-depth assessment, which revealed the existence of nitrogen-oxygen atmospheres on the fifth and sixth moons, named Sidereus and Saggiatore, respectively. Further examination proved the atmospheres to be life-sustaining, but incompatible with human biology. Both moons were marked as scientifically significant but unsuitable for colonisation, and the Wayward Son moved on.

In 2174, ExoGeni Corporation purchased the scans from Captain Evans, and dispatched a scientific expedition to Galilei under the command of Dr. Martin Bishop, PhD.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 23, 2175 (2)

Have you ever found yourself wondering, just what it would be like to trapped in a confined space, with the stench of three week old decaying corpse clinging to everything? Because I have the answer to that flight of morbid fantasy, and let me tell you, it's a singularly unpleasant experience. How, you may ask, did I come to know this? Well, as it turns out, it isn't just Sidereus' atmosphere that's out to get me, it also has several species of carnivorous predator that would like a go.

Don't worry, Hermione, I'm not going to put this one one your tab. This was all me. My luck, I swear...

These particular beasties are called _Hyaenaferratus Maculosus,_ according to the research notes on Dr. Castleman's omni-tool, and they seem to find the smell of decomposing human especially delectable. I guess there really is no accounting for taste.

Loosely translated, it means _'_ spotted armoured hyenas,' and it's a good name for them, since they do look a lot like spotted hyenas, only bigger, with six legs, dark, hairless skin that's covered in bioluminescent spots, and the eponymous chitinous armour around their necks and spines. The database classifies them as nocturnal carnivorous pack hunters, with a brain mass to body weight ratio indicative of high order of mental processing and pattern recognition, and are one of several species on this planet to possess a uniquely intense bioelectrical field, which they use for sophisticated electrocommunication and passive electrolocation.

Each of their six paws has three toes and an opposable thumb, allowing them to climb trees as well as stalk from the ground, creating a three-dimensional hunting field. When stalking prey, they can dim their bioluminescence, and reduce their profile by hugging the ground or clinging to tree limbs. With their dark skin letting them blend in with the environment at night and their silent electrocommunication, they can get within mere meters of their targets before attacking with lethal grace.

Dr. Castleman described the whole thing as 'moving like liquid darkness,' and I might appreciated the poetry of that if I hadn't just experienced it for myself.

So, I'm sitting on a log, right, telling you all about my terrible, no good, very bad day, when suddenly I've got five snarling balls of grizzly death flying at me from out of bloody nowhere. Reflex has me casting a flash-bang charm with a snap of my fingers, only instead of the familiar _flash-crack-boom_ of a lightning strike, the difference between my own innate power and Sidereus' ambient magic meant I get more of a flickering high-beam and an engine backfire. Miraculously, even as grossly underpowered, it's still enough to startle them, which buys me enough time to hide in the only safe place in the immediate vicinity. Which is, of course, why I am trapped in the late doctor's survey pod, breathing in her death fumes, while she's out there, being eaten.

I'm very sorry about that, by the way, but the pod's cockpit is only big enough for one person, and it's not like she'll mind, being dead and all. Besides, I have her omni-tool, and I'll make sure it gets back to her family if I make it off this rock. That's a fair trade, right? Right.

And I thought things were starting to look up.

Merlin, but I'm an idiot.

Still, I have breathable air, horrid smell notwithstanding, a dozen tubes of high calorie nutrient paste, and four litres of drinkable water. I can wait them out. It's not like they can stay out there forever. Dr. Castleman's not _that_ big.

And in the meantime, I can pick up where I left off.

Which, I think... right, I was about to tell you why I wasn't _completely_ blind-sided by recent events.

It was at the end of my first year apprenticed to Nick, about... seven years ago now, I think. I had just finished mastering the more subtle nuances of Thought Partitioning to the old man's satisfaction, when he shipped me off to a tiny little town in the middle of Nowhere, Alaska, with nothing but a vague directive to find an alchemist named Jack Curtis and convince him to teach me.

It sounds strange, I know; Nicholas Flamel, arguably the most famous alchemist of all time, sending his apprentice to learn alchemy from someone else? But contrary to what you might think, I didn't learn a thing about alchemy from the old man, not a single thing in the three years I was apprenticed to him. Instead, I _learned how to learn._ Occlumency and Legilimency. Thought Acceleration, Psychometry and Potentiation. Thought Refraction and Cognitive Amplification. Well over a dozen kinds of psychomancy, all together, and all of it geared towards making me a better, more effective thinker.

I was to be his legacy, you see, so why waste what little time he had left teaching me basic alchemy I could learn anywhere, when instead, he could spend his time giving me the tools and experience I'd need to become a truly great alchemist on my own?

Which is how I ended up in the town of Wesson, looking for a man named Jack. I eventually found him in the Rusty Bucket, a run down bar on the edge of town, and a scruffier bastard you'll never meet. When I introduced myself and tried to convince him to take me on as a student, he laughed at me. Teach a soft-skinned mummy's boy barely off the tit? Ha!

"You want to learn from _me,"_ he said, "then you'll have to earn it!"

His challenge? Survive a month alone out on the fearsome Alaska Range with nothing but a knife and a few cryptic words to keep me safe. I thought he was crazy, at first, but he put that notion to rest quickly enough when he used _my_ wand to turn his knife into a portkey, and then handed it to me with a mocking, "Remember, it's all connected!"

To this day, those four weeks were the most harrowing of my life. I nearly died a dozen times of exposure, wild animal attacks, and starvation. But I persevered, I survived, and I even started to understand what those words meant, even if that cocky bastard himself didn't. Yeah, you heard that right. I stagger on back into Wesson, lean as a whip and ready to make that asshole teach me everything he knows whether he wants to or not, only to find out that 'Jack' wasn't really 'Jack' at all, but Sam – _Jacqueline_ Curtis _'_ reprobate little brother, who thought it would be a fantastic idea to fuck with the out-of-towner while his sister was away.

I will maintain, until the day I die, that punching that smug little shit in the face was worth the night in jail.

Thankfully, Jacqueline was sorry enough for what her brother did that she made him drop the assault charge and spent the next three months teaching me not only the fundamental principles of alchemy, but how to feel the energy flowing through the World, nourishing everything that lives and breaths like blood coursing through the veins of the Earth, and to tap into it. It was from her that I learned how to manipulate the energy within myself in order to manipulate the energy around me; the basis for wandless magic.

Now, Sidereus' ambient magic might be largely incompatible with my own, which rules out most of my wandless arsenal, but it was _just_ compatible enough for me to pull off a weak dowsing charm. It wasn't enough to give me more than a general direction, but fresh water is fresh water, and you know the saying; three minutes without air, three hours without shelter, three days without water, three weeks without food. I couldn't exactly afford to sit and twiddle my thumbs, especially with my respiration arrays slowly but steadily draining my internal magic to keep me breathing.

The view was pretty spectacular, but the trip itself wasn't all that exiting; just a lot of walking, with some tripping and stumbling thrown in, and an occasional stop to recast the dowsing charm. I did make it a point to cast a supersensory charm every once in a while, because even as underpowered as it was, I didn't want to be caught flat-footed by anything out to take a bite.

Trust me, I am fully aware of the irony of making that statement while in my current situation. I was a little too busy playing with my new toy. It's not a defence, I know, but there it is.

Anyway, I think I was about three hours into my walk when I came across a small section of trees that had been bent and broken at a descending angle. It struck me as unusual enough that I decided to investigate. And it's a good thing I did, because at the end of that particular trail, lying in a thicket of glowing shrubbery, was a downed HE-22 Scientific Survey Pod with its wonderful Emergency Supply Cache.

And thus endeth the story of how our intrepid hero, the Great and Powerful Harrison James Potter, Master Alchemist, came to be trapped on a strange new world, far from home, surrounded on all sides by vicious creatures with no help in sight!

Seriously.

Fuck. My. Life.

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./SIDEREUS

NAME: Sidereus

LOCATION: Fifth natural satellite orbiting Galilei III.

RADIUS: 5723.5 kilometres

MASS: 3.615·1024 kilograms

GRAVITY: 0.75 Earth Standard

ATMOSPHERIC DENSITY: 1.3 Earth Standard

DESCRIPTION: A terrestrial moon in the Galilei System, orbiting the gas giant, Galilei III. Its atmosphere is 63.59% nitrogen, 17.89% carbon dioxide, 11.99% oxygen, and 5.5% xenon with trace amounts of other gases, making it Class II Garden World; life-supporting but unfit for colonisation. Surface is comprised of 75% water, with multiple small continents.

Sidereus's proximity to Galilei III and the two neighbouring moons produce tidal heating, resulting in rapid continental drift. This creates intense vulcanism, and fractures large continental masses, moderating the moon's weather. Climate is predominately tropical and sub-tropical, with narrow temperate bands.

As a result of the superconductive elements in its crust, Sidereus has a unique magnetic field which has given rise to dynamic evolutionary adaptations within its biosphere. These adaptations are primarily bio-electrical in nature, and are considered scientifically significant.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 24, 2175

Okay, so I spent most of last night skimming through Dr. Castleman's logs, and I've got some good news and some not-so-good news. Being the semi-sadistic asshole I am, I'll give you the not-so-good news first.

Which is... Space Pirates! Yeah, you heard that right. Specifically, _alien_ space pirates called Batarians, a four-eyed humanoid species who not only hate humans for their colonisation efforts in a region of space called the Skyllian Verge, but seem to think drug running, slave trafficking and piracy is a perfectly acceptable recreational activity.

According to Dr. Castleman's final log, they arrived a little over three weeks ago in a stolen Alliance Corvette – the Systems Alliance being the military, exploratory, and economic spearhead of Earth and all human colonies right now – and preceded to do what pirates do best. With only a token security staff with maybe a half a dozen weapons between them, the batarians overwhelmed the research outpost almost immediately, killing all of the security officers and capturing most of the researchers.

Castleman herself only escaped because she was helping her friend, Rice Andell, repair some of the survey equipment in the outpost garage. When the batarians found them, Rice attacked them with an electro-welder to buy her time to escape in the survey pod. Sadly, he was killed in the struggle, and Castleman took a shot in the back getting away.

Her last log was incredibly detailed, and incredibly sad. I think she knew she wasn't going to make it, because once she finished explaining what happened, she went on to say some... very personal things that I'm not going to repeat. Makes me feel really prickish for leaving her corpse out to be eating by alien hyenas.

Incidentally, it looks like they left sometime during the night - not that I've gone outside to check.

So that's the not-so-good news: Alien Space Pirate.

The good news is that this all happened three weeks ago, so they should have moved on by now, which means the research outpost, or what's left of it, should be abandoned right now. If I can get to it, and if the batarians haven't damaged the communications array too badly, I might be able to call for help.I know, I know; that's a lot of ' _shoulds_ ' and ' _ifs,'_ and one hell of a ' _might,'_ but its certainly better than my other options, which is basically, just sitting here and waiting for my luck to save me from hunger, thirst, and suffocation.

Yeah, I'm not going to hold my breath, and that means somehow crossing 497.3 kilometres of heavily forested terrain, including two separate river systems and a small canyon, and then another 24.9 kilometres of ocean. There's no way for me to get there on foot, even if I was inclined to try, but I think I have a way of pulling it off.

If I can get this pod operational. If it wasn't too damaged in the crash. If it's got enough fuel. And if I can figure out how to fly it.

If, if, if, if, if.

I'm really beginning to hate that word.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 24, 2175 (2)

Good news!

As it turns out, my omni-tool was made for just these kinds of situations, and came pre-loaded with all the information I might need to get the pod up and running. My ADV.I.S.R. was able to talk me through the start-up process, and then how activate the pod's diagnostic systems to find out if anything was damaged in the crash. Fortunately, while some systems were damaged by Castleman's less-than-controlled landed, including both the flight gyroscope and the drive core, none of them were broken beyond an omni-tool's ability to repair.

Also, omni-gel is my new best friend. I'm very sorry, Hermione, Ron, but you've been replaced in my affections. No, but seriously, omni-gel is brilliant. It's this semi-molten suspension of industrial plastics, ceramics, and light alloys that an omni-tool's fabrication module can use to rapidly assemble all sorts of things. With one canister of the stuff, I was able to replace or repair all of the pod's damaged circuits, realign the gyroscope, and fix the drive core's mass effect field oscillator.

On a side note, did you know that the No-Majs haven't just rediscovered Orichalcum, but figured out how to harness its connection to the aether? I sure as hell didn't. They call it Element Zero, Eezo for short, and apparently, it forms the basis for almost all of the advanced technology currently in use, and not just by humans.

You can't hear it, but inside I'm squealing like a teenage girl invited backstage to meet Lorcan D'Eath. Since the Sinking of Atlantis, Orichalcum has become _so_ rare on Earth – so, _so_ rare – that I'd literally have to sell my soul to get hold of even trace amounts of it. Not even the old man could get his hands on it. And don't even get me started on the Goblins. But out here? Oh, I don't even have words for how excited I am right now, except to say, Hermione, you are at least 36% forgiven for all this. Maybe as much as 45%.

But, back to the topic at hand, which is, the pod. With everything fixed, and the reserve tanks mostly full, all I have to do now is wait for the system to finish running a fresh set of diagnostics and safety checks. Just ten more minutes, and I should be ready to go.

Wish me luck.

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./SIDEREUS: FLORA

While some plant life on Sidereus bears a striking resemblance to plants found on Earth, just as many are strange or even fantastic. The diversity o plant life and its range of size and complexity suggest that, as Earth, the environment on Sidereus acts as a strong force for natural selection. The environmental factors that plants experience on Earth – radiation, water, atmospheric composition and gravity – are present on Sidereus, but their characteristics differ greatly, resulting in many wildly divergent forms and features within its plant kingdom. The atmosphere is thicker than on Earth, with higher concentrations of carbon dioxide, as well as elevated levels of xenon and carbon sulphide. Gravity is weaker, while Sidereus' magnetic field is incredibly strong. All of these factors contribute to the evolution of plants on Sidereus.

On Earth, the tallest trees are limited by the physical height their transport tissues can move water, while on Sidereus, gravity is 25% weaker, effectively making water that much lighter and easier for plant tissue to transport. This has led to a marked trend towards gigantism in Sidereus' plant life, and the typical stems up, roots down orientation does not always hold true. The presence of a strong magnetic field and ionising radiation has cultivated growth responses geared towards these stimuli, namely magetotropism and radiotropism.

One unique quality found amongst Siderean fauna is the presence of life-forms that have characteristics of both plants and animals. Classified as zooplantae, these 'planimals' have incipient nervous systems that give them the kind of organic intelligence found in primitive animals. This discovery has opened several avenues of research for xenobiologists, zoologists and botanists alike.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 24, 2175 (3)

YES!

All systems are go for launch, and I am out of here!

END LOG

* * *

EXOGENI RESEARCH OUTPOST ARCHIVE: DOCUMENT EE.12192174.03

TO: Natalie Borrett [ .sol]

FROM: Martin Bishop [ .sol]

CC: ExoGeni Corporation Colonial Research & Development Archive [ .sol]

SUBJECT: Status Report: Research Outpost – Sidereus

DATE SENT: December 19, 2174

MESSAGE START

Director Borrett,

I am happy to inform you that we have located an appropriate location for the outpost, and have begun deployment procedures.

In accordance with Subsection 12(b) of the Environmental Preservation Policy, we have selected an ecologically isolated island 24.9 kilometres from the nearest landmass. This island, which Dr. Porter has decided to name Isla de Luna, for it's crescent profile, is approximately 500 metres long, and 150 metres at its widest point, with a average elevation of three metres above sea level.

Technicians Andell and Meier, with assistance from Security Chief Dowe and myself, have finalised plans for the outpost layout, the specifics of which can be found in the attached file. Following these plans, we will utilise the following:

7 Type-2 Habitat Modules

1 Type-3 Medical Module

1 Type-2 Engineering Module

2 Type-2 General Laboratory Modules

3 Type-2 Specialised Laboratory Modules

1 Type-2 General Utility Module

2 Type-3 General Utility Module

1 Type-3 Vehicle Utility Module

45 Type-1 Solar Panels

Technician Andell estimates that with everyone helping, it will take two days to transport the modules down to the surface, and a further three to install essential equipment and establish all primary functions. If everything goes according to plan, I should be reporting Research Outpost – Sidereus fully operational by week's end.

Sincerely,

Dr. Martin Bishop, PhD.

Chief Scientist,

Sidereus Expedition

MESSAGE END

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 24, 2175 (4)

I've decided that I really don't like batarians, or at least, these particular batarians. Remember that particular ' _if_ ' relating to the communications array? Specifically, _if_ the batarians haven't damaged it too badly? Yeah, well, they did. Shot it into so many pieces that there's no way in hell _I'm_ going to be able to fix it, even if I had a dozen canisters of omni-gel and step-by-step instructions.

On the upside, the research outpost itself is mostly fine. A few buildings were compromised during the raid, but since the complex is made up of self-contained pre-fabricated modules, only the damaged modules are affected. More importantly, it's solar panels came through the attack unscathed, and that means power, which means warmth and light, clean water and fresh air.

I'm also good, food-wise. There were ten researchers, three security officers and two technicians assigned to the outpost, which meant keeping food enough for fifteen people between resupplies, which only happened every three months. At three square meals a day, that's roughly four thousand meals. Even with the batarians taking most of it, there's still something like two hundred meals in storage. Properly rationed, and it should last me at least six to eight months.

Both the water and air purifiers use mass effect technology to keep the water tanks full and the air breathable. All I need is power, which I have, and they can run indefinitely, so I don't need to worry about suffocating or dying of thirst.

Plus, the outpost is set up on a small island free of carnivorous predators, so it's unlikely I'm going to be dragged off and eaten either. It's something, at least.

Unfortunately, I still don't have a way off this planet, and the outpost logs indicate that resupplies are made at the outpost's request rather than on any kind of fixed schedule, so there's no telling when, or even if, someone will come to investigate the missing staff when they miss their check-in next month.

It's looking very much like I'll have to get myself out of this somehow.

Oh, well. I've got time, at least. Let me see what I can come up with.

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/ALIENS: NON-COUNCIL SPECIES/BATARIANS

SPECIES NAME: Batarian

HOMEWORLD: Khar'shan

GOVERNMENT: Batarian Hegemony

DECRIPTION: Four-eyed anthropoidal race. Exhibit a wide range of skin tones and colours. General batarian complexions include reddish-brown, greenish, yellow-greenish to yellow-brownish, light brown, and teal. Their blood has been observed to be red.

CULTURE: Little is known about batarian culture. What is known is that batarians place an extremely high value on social caste and appearance. Slavery appears to play an integral part of this caste system.

RECENT HISTORY: In the early 2160s, the Alliance began aggressive colonisation of worlds in the Skyllian Verge, much to the dismay of the batarians who had been developing the region for several decades. In 2171, the batarians petitioned the Council to declare the Verge a "zone of batarian interest". The Council refused, however, declaring unsettled worlds in the region open to human colonisation.

In protest, the batarians closed their Citadel embassy and severed official diplomatic relations with the Council, effectively becoming a rogue state. They instigated a proxy war in the Verge by funnelling money and weapons to criminal organisations, urging them to strike at human colonies.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 25, 2175

Merry Christmas!

I'm sorry I'm not there to spend it with you all, but I promise, I'm going to try my very best to make sure I don't miss next year.

To Hermione and Ron, I love you both. And please, give my love to the kids.

To Molly and Arthur, the same, and I promise I'll _try_ and stay out of trouble, but you know me.

To Ginny, George, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur, I miss you all, and I hope you all keep safe and happy while I'm away.

To Teddy... miss the hell out of you, Moonlet. You're the man of the house now, so be sure to take care of your Gran. Love you, kiddo.

Finally, to Dr. Laurel Castleman, Technician Rice Andell, and Security Officers Leif Dowe, Brendon Sharpey, and Ashlea Wyke, I may not have known you in life, but I hope you find your peace in whatever comes after. Especially you, Doctor. You may not know it, but you saved my life, and I'll always be grateful.

I would also like to take a moment to thank Technician Wayne Meier for the gift of clean clothes, Dr. Erik Hawley for the gift of sturdy boots, and Dr. Martin Bishop for the gift of a soft bed with clean sheets. Wherever you all are, I hope that some day I can repay you for what you've given me, knowingly or not.

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./SIDEREUS: BIOLUMINESCENCE

GENERAL DEFNITION: Visible light given off by various life-forms, either from chemical reactions within their own bodies, or from symbiotic organisms living within them.

DESCRIPTION: Complete darkness on Sidereus is rare given its nature as a satellite orbiting a gas giant, within a trinary star system. As a result, very few life-forms on Sidereus have evolved means to operate in full dark, leaving only specialised predators to develop biological adaptations like infrared vision and echolocation. To compensate for this, most plants and animals on Sidereus have adapted to utilise a form of electro-chemical-based bioluminescence to display their shape and location in the absence of light.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 28, 2175

So, it's my fifth day at the outpost, and I have a plan. Or more accurately, I have the bare bones of an idea that could, potentially, become a plan. In order for me to explain it, though, I need to lay a little bit of magical theory on you, so welcome to ' _Metaphysics 101: What is Magic and Where Does It Come From?_ '.

Short answer: once you've strip away all the other bullshit and mysticism, Magic is basically just metaphysical energy that can be used to distort reality in one way or another, and there are three different 'sources.' Theses are the Source Within, the Source Without and the Source Beyond.

The Source Within is the magic produced as a by-product of the competing Life and Death Drives contained within the souls of sentient beings. Think of it like heat being generated as a result of friction, only instead of physical bodies rubbing against one another, its the metaphysical force striving to keep us independent from the World and each other, and its counterforce trying to reunite us with the Spirit of the Earth. It's this source that fuels internal magics, like Psychomancy, and innate magical abilities, like Parseltongue and Metamorphmagery. It's also the source used by witches and wizards to cast their spells, which is why so many of them are dependent on their wands; because magic generated _within_ the soul is contained and constrained _by_ the soul, so without a magical focus like a wand or an alchemical array to draw it out, you can't use it to affect anything beyond that metaphysical boundary.

Next, you have the Source Without, which is the magic produced by the cyclical nature of the World itself. Life giving way to death, in order to give rise to new life. Remember what Jack Curtis said, about how it's all connected? This is what she was talking about, the massive circle of energy that flows through the Earth, binding it all together. This is the kind of magic used to power rituals and other high-cost magical undertakings, like transmutation. With proper training, you can also learn how to manipulate it via a form of magical resonance using your own internal magic, which is where wandless magic comes from. The catch there, though, is that only something born _of_ the World can properly resonate with magic generated _by_ the World, hence my current problems.

Lastly, you have the Source Beyond. We call it that because it's the magic that comes from places beyond the World, be it another layer of reality, like the Reverse Side of the World, or another dimension entirely. Practitioners who use this kind of magic are called sorcerers, and they make deals or pacts with otherworldly beings who either provide them with magic for their spells, or work spells on their behalf. It's an incredibly exacting branch of magic, and you have to be very, _very_ careful when using it, because not only are otherworldly beings distinctly _other_ , which makes their motives suspect at the best of time, their magic doesn't play by our rules. I try to steer clear of it, as a rule.

So! That's magic, quick, dirty, and in no way comprehensive, but hopefully clear enough that you can grasp the situation I'm in, and the more esoteric aspects of my idea-cum-plan.

That said, my situation is this: I am, as you know, stranded on an alien planet without a wand, which has effectively reduced my magical arsenal to a dozen or so flavours of Psychomancy, a smattering of woefully underpowered wandless spells, and whatever alchemy I can work with my internal reserves. This, you could say, is something of a issue for me.

Fortunately, I may have a solution.

Orichalcum, or, as it's more commonly known in this century, Element Zero. Eezo.

This amazing substance is intimately connected to the Aether, the invisible energy no-maj scientists call Dark Energy, and according to the outpost's research logs, there just so happen to be several unrefined samples sitting in the geology lab, taken from a much larger deposit a few hundred miles inland. How does this help me, you ask? Well, if I can refine the samples into something usable, and if there's enough of it to work with when I'm done, then I should be able to modify my existing arrays to accept dark energy as an alternative to energy source, and design an energy transduction array that will let me resonate with the Aether like I would with ambient magic.

If it works out the way I hope it does, I should have most of my alchemy and at least some of my wandless magic back. Of course, it's just as likely it won't, since this is all highly theoretical, but even if it doesn't, it's not like I'll be any more screwed than I was before, right?

That's what I call optimism!

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./SIDEREUS: GEOLOGY

Sidereus' physical structure is similar enough to Earth's: a liquid iron core, a plastic mantle, and a semi-rigid crust. It has two internal heat sources; the disintegration of radioactive isotopes, and energy from the gravitational collapse of its initial formation, again, like Earth. What sets it apart from our little blue marble, is the presence of an additional and much larger energy input in the form of tidal forces. As Sidereus orbits Galilei III, it is constantly subjected to the changing gravitational tides generated by its primary, and its neighbouring satellites.

According to my geological models, it is this excess energy that drives Sidereus' unusually fast continental drift, which would, theoretically, cause the tectonic plates to fracture more extensively because of increased stress. This would explain the lack of major continents, as well as the vulcanism and geothermal activity we've observed.

Though Sidereus' land-to-water ratio is fractionally greater than Earth's, the land is broken up into a large number of minor continents, which means more coastlines and fewer inland regions than Earth. Given the proximity of the continental interiors to the oceans, extremes in temperature are moderated. Polar ice caps do exist, but unlike Earth, they aren't anchored to a landmass, and are currently free-floating.

Sidereus' geothermal energy profile means it is far more volcanically active than Earth, with thermal vents on both land and under the oceans. Most of the mountains and geological features we've scanned so far show signs of volcanic origin, and many quite recently, geologically speaking. Hot springs and geysers are also fairly common, and several of the river headwaters we've observed have been near boiling point.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: DECEMBER 31, 2175

Before anything else is said, I would like to make a statement.

That. Bloody. Hurt!

And this is _me_ saying that, so you know its true. Granted, I knew it would hurt going in, since binding highly refined eezo to the phoenix ash particles in the ink of my tattoos wasn't exactly going to tickle. In fact, it felt a little like reliving every single stab of the tattoo needle that went into forming my arrays, simultaneously, and then being doused in Hermione's Disinfectant Potion of Fiery Blazing Pain.

I'm glad I had the foresight to do this in the shower block, because there was blood everywhere, and I may have thrown up at one point. Fun times, let me tell you.

As you can probably guess, my idea worked, mostly. I mean, I'll have to wait a few days for my arrays to heal and stabilise, but I'm already beginning to feel the dark energy around me, so I think I can afford to be hopeful. It went something like this:

Once I found the samples I told you about, I was able to extract the eezo from the meteoric gangue. That's the technical term for the waste material that surrounds or is mixed in with a wanted mineral in an ore deposit, by the way. If you already knew that, then good for you, and if you didn't, well, you've learned something, so good for you too.

The process of refining it into a form I could use, though, was a little harder. You see, Element Zero isn't really an _element_ , per se. It's actually a type of exotic matter formed when regular matter becomes entangled with Dark Matter, most often as a result of a supernova. 'Born in the heart of a dying star,' or so the saying goes. Because of that, it takes a lot of power to manipulate.

And by a lot, I mean, a _lot_.

Let me put it this way; ballpark figures, the average magically active human can store roughly a hundred units worth of magical energy – we call them thaums, named for Thaumaturgy – with a base regeneration of say, maybe, five thaums an hour. I, as a moderately powerful magical human, have a capacity of about 150 thaums, with a regeneration of about ten thaums an hour.

The energy requirement to refine even a single gram of eezo? Five thaums. Which means my _entire magical capacity_ would have netted me all of 30 grams, with another 2 grams an hour if I was willing to operate on the brink of magical exhaustion.

See what I mean?

Thankfully, I only needed a hundred or so grams of the stuff, so I staggered the process, using the time between transmutations to refine my plans for the modifications, and to make sure my designs for the energy transduction array were arithmantically sound. Even then, it still took me the better part of three days.

Once I had refined enough eezo, an amount about the size of your average domino, I cleared out the shower block, and got to work tracing out the necessary transmutation circle - in blood. Remember my last log, how I talked about internal magic being restricted by the metaphysical boundary of the soul? And that other bit, where I said my explanation was in no way comprehensive? This is one of those things I didn't tell you. Magical energy has a tendency to merge with a witch or wizards bodily fluids - things like blood or semen, or even a mother's milk - and these fluids are good at holding in magical energy for some time even after leaving the body. And, as long as they retain that energy, your soul still recognises them as a part of you, which allows you to sidestep that restriction in certain cases.

I'm not any kind of blood mage, so the trick is of limited use to me, mostly only for these kinds of situations, where I need a better framework for the magic than my arrays can provide. Take this circle for example; 243 distinct alchemical operations, divided between two primary functions and three secondary ones. While I _could_ handle that free handed, there was no reason to suffer through the migraine that would follow when I had other options available, especially given how much it hurt all on its own.

Still, it worked!

It's only been an hour, and it'll take a day or two for the arrays to heal properly, but once that happens, I should be in business.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 01, 2176

Happy New Year!

My arrays are still healing, but by the looks of it, I should be able to start experimenting sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, though, I've been doing some thinking, and some reading, and even a little planning.

Provided this whole experience isn't just another cosmic joke at my expense, then the artefact that bought me here obviously did so for a reason. So why? Why this planet? Why this time? And why take me and not any of other magical humans to touch it?

If I can find the answers to these questions, I think it'll go a long way towards getting me home, which is where the reading part comes in.

You see, a day or so before the pirate raid, one of the researchers, a geologist by the name of Daryl Clarke, submitted a very interesting report. While running sensors sweeps of a valley a few hours inland – in the very pod Castleman used to escape, and in the very valley I arrived in – he detected several curious mineral signatures. Signatures he referred to as 'suspiciously uniform, with a familiar composition.' He didn't come right out a _say_ he thought there were alien ruins buried underneath fifty thousand years of natural growth and geological activity, but he talked around it well enough that all I needed to do was check the ancient history section of my omni-tool's encyclopaedia to arrive at the conclusion myself.

They're called the Protheans, and if I'm reading this right, they were a space-fairing race of aliens who existed some fifty thousand years ago. Supposedly, they were the first race to harness eezo and developed Mass Effect technology, and before they mysteriously vanishing in a galactic extinction event, they used it to rule over a galaxy-spanning empire, the remnants of which can still be found all across the Milky Way. Yet, despite being surprising intact for such ancient structures, time and generations of looters have picked most of them clean, leaving functioning examples of their technology all but impossible to find, which makes finding a previously undiscovered ruin a huge deal – hence Clarke's verbal tap-dancing.

 _If_ this wasn't just another freak manifestation of the Potter Luck, then odds are good that these Protheans are part of the reason I'm here, either because they made the artefact themselves, or because whoever did make it was involved with them somehow. It's too much of a coincidence, otherwise. I mean, of all the planets I could have landed on, and of all the places _on_ this planet, I land a few hundred metres from a previously unknown alien structure, hidden for more than fifty thousand years?

Yeah, and I have this amazing pair of invisible pants I'd be willing to sell you, spun from invisible thread so fine it feels like you're wearing nothing at all. You can't see me, but this is me, rolling my eyes.

Which brings me to the planning part of this discussion.

With my alchemy and at least some of my wandless magic back, I'll be in a good enough position in terms of survival that I can afford to spend time and energy investigating the ruins, so once my arrays finish healing, and I've gotten everything back in working order, I'm going to take the pod back out, and see what I can see.

Maybe I'll find some answers. Maybe I won't. But if my luck has taught me anything, it's this: the only real failure is a failure to try.

Only he who dares, wins.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 02, 2176

It's official, ladies and gentlemen!

Harrison James Potter, Alchemist Extraordinaire, is _back in business_!

Oh, sweet Merlin, but it is so good - _so good!_ \- to have my magic back, I can't even...!

YES!

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./SIDEREUS: MAGNETIC FIELD

Sidereus possesses a liquid iron core with circulating currents that produce a dipole field similar in structure to Earth's, but the prescience of superconductive elements within its crust magnifies its strength hundreds of times. This enhanced field shields most of the surface from cosmic rays and coronal mass emissions from Galelei-Alpha, but unlike Earth, these intense magnetic fields are not as uniform, and concentrated deposits of these superconductive elements produce localised distortions to the worldwide field that can act as magnetic funnels. These anomalies can channel incoming particles ejected from the sun to the moon's surface, resulting in 'hot zones' that become highly irradiated during solar flare events and coronal mass ejections.

In addition these localised electromagnetic phenomena, Sidereus' global magnetic field also interacts with Galilei III's much more extensive one. This interaction can divert radiation trapped in the planet's magnetic field to the moon's surface, produce a 'magnetic flux tube' that links the polar areas of the planet and satellite with an electrical current flow of millions of amperes. As a result of the massive increase in electrical activity on both bodies, Sidereus and Galilei III are prone to large auroral storms and other electromagnetic phenomena.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 02, 2176 (2)

Okay, so, as you may have surmised from my earlier... entry, the eezo infusion worked the way I hoped it would, and I can now use dark energy to fuel both my alchemy and my wandless magic. There were a few side effects - dark energy is a lot harder to focus and direct than ambient magic, and it has its own little quirks - but nothing worse than I was expecting, so I'm taking it as a solid win.

After spending a few hours running through a series of alchemical exercises Jack taught me, things like fusing hydrogen and oxygen into water, altering the shape and density of a metal ball, and using the carbon in steel to form images within the metal, I can tell I've lost a fair bit of my fine control, and a little of my overall power, at least in terms of Structural and Elemental Transmutation. I didn't even try testing the Conceptual stuff, because I don't want to risk blowing myself to pieces given how finicky that kind of alchemy can be. Even so, I should be set for food and water now that I can make it out of the local flora and fauna.

With time and effort, I'm pretty sure I can get it back to where is should be, so no real harm done.

As for my wandless magic, well, they work, but they work _differently_. Like I said before, dark energy is a lot harder to focus and direct – sort of like the air density problem I had when I first arrived on Sidereus. Dark energy is _thicker_ , for lack of a better word, so it takes a lot more effort from to me affect it the way I would ambient magic. It also operates using a different set of physical mechanics, mostly this Mass Effect I've read so much about.

What this means for me, is that most of my wandless spells now use mass as a focal point for their operation, like detection spells now reading the mass of an object rather than the magic within it, and shield charms skewed more heavily towards kinetic energy. It also means that until I learn the ins and outs of the new rules, anything requiring subtlety or finesse is pretty much out the window for the moment, leaving me with just the kinetic stuff, like summoning, banishing and levitation.

Mostly, that's just a matter of experimentation and practice, so again, not something I need to panic over.

On the purely positive side of things, I can now sense dark energy the same way I can ambient magic, and let me tell you, it is an _interesting_ experience. I read a clever little anecdote in a physics journal not long ago, that said Mass told Space-Time how to curve, and in return, Space-Time told Mass how to move. I can now say for sure that that's true, and what's more, that dark energy is the language they use to speak to one another. It's hard to put into words, but... it's like I can feel the way it moves through the world around me, like currents in the ocean, flowing and twisting and rippling and eddying... and mass just sort of, drags through it, creating this strange, non-directional pressure that deforms the space it occupies, which then pulls on the dark energy, altering its flow.

Does that make any kind of sense?

Whatever. _I_ know what I mean, and that's what counts.

Hopefully, my new sensitivity will make it easier to work out the differences between what I'm trying to do with my wandless magic and what's actually happening, and maybe help me iron out the kinks.

At this point, it's all just a matter of time and effort, experimentation and practice. Time, I've got in abundance, and as for the rest, well, experimentation and practice are just forms following the function of effort, and _that's_ just a matter of applied stubbornness.

And Merlin know I've _never_ been accused of not being stubborn enough.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 04, 2176

So, I've had something of a breakthrough with my wandless magic.

Yesterday, I had my omni-tool run a search through it's encyclopaedia and the outpost's database for anything that might relate to mass effect physics, and it pulled up a series of articles from a biology journal, detailing the effectiveness of various biotic training methodologies.

For those of you who don't know, biotics are lifeforms with the biological ability to create and control mass effect fields using element zero embedded within their scientific hows and whys of it are interesting, but not really important at the moment. All you need to know is that nascent biotics are exposed to dust-form element zero in utero and subsequently developed eezo nodules throughout their nervous systems, which they can learn to utilise via physical mnemonics, physical gesture that cause neurons to fire in a certain way, sending an electrical charge through the eezo nodules to create the desired effect. With the proper training and a surgically implanted amplifier, a biotic can use a kind of gravitation-based telekinesis, stasis and spatial manipulation to do things like move objects from a distance, lift them into the air, generate gravitational vortices and create protective barriers.

Basically, it's techno-science space magic.

How does this relate to my breakthrough, you ask? Well, you see, I might not be biotic, but the principle of it – the manipulation of dark energy – is the same as what I'm trying to do my wandless magic, and Dr. V'Seer's articles describe the way it all works in comprehensive, graphic detail. By reverse engineering the more common biotic techniques, and then translating their underlying mechanics into an arithmantic formula, I can use it to adapt the formulae of all my other spells.

It might sound overly complicated, but trust me, it's one hell of a shortcut compared to the tedious experimentation I was going to have to do otherwise, especially with all the psychomancy the old man crammed inside my head. In fact, I think I'm going to send Dr. V'Seer a fruit-basket if I ever get the chance.

But now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some techno-science space magic to play with.

END LOG

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PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 10, 2176

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PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 10, 2176 (2)

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PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 10, 2176 (3)

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PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 10, 2176 (4)

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* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 11, 2176

Oh. Sweet. Merlin.

First of all, space drugs are bad, okay. Very, very bad, and you should never, ever, ever take them, even if the little voice on your wrist tells you they're perfectly safe. The little voice _lies_ , and if you listen to it, you'll end up outside, wearing nothing but an omni-tool, and telling it all kinds of embarrassing things.

Secondly, patience is a virtue. No matter how exciting the prospect of techno-science space magic may be, you should never try to use Thought Partitioning, Refraction, _and_ Acceleration at the same time. It only leads to migraines and exceptionally poor decision making.

To summarise: My ADV.I.S.R. is an drug-enabling asshole, and I am an impatient idiot.

Never again.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 11, 2176 (2)

Well, _that_ happened.

Short story: I got a little impatient, did something I really shouldn't have, and then, when the migraine kicked in, I made the mistake of asking my ADV.I.S.R. about pain medication, which turned out to be a _lot_ stronger than I was expecting.

The slightly longer story is that translating mass effect physics into workable arithmantic formula is somewhat harder than I originally anticipated, so I spent a good five and a half days beating my head against the proverbial brick wall, growing more and more frustrated as every equation that should have worked, didn't, and for no clear reason I could understand. I swear, I got the math so refined and elegant it may as well have been _poetry_ , but no matter how smoothly the numbers flowed there was always – _always_ – something missing, and I just. Couldn't. Find it. It was this sense of... aggravation and vexation that led me make a very poor decision.

I've mentioned psychomancy before, but I haven't gone into any kind of detail. Basically, it's any kind of magic that affects the way the mind works, like memory and confundus charms. Legilimency and occlumency too, though they're less common. I mention this now, because the psychomancy I use is designed to enhance my ability to process and retain information, and I'll give you three guesses what I was using to do my math homework.

Yeah, that's right. Mind magic. Three different kinds of mind magic to be exact: thought partitioning, thought acceleration, and cognitive amplification.

Thought partitioning is the ability to divide your mind into multiple thought processes that operate in parallel towards a single goal. Basically, while a normal person has one mental 'room' capable of processing a single thought, this technique allows you to erect partitions within your mental room to create multiple rooms, with each one capable of its own thought process, and all of them working together. A decent psychomancer can manage three partitions, and a master can manage five. The old man wasn't satisfied until I could manage seven partitions reliably.

Next, we have thought acceleration, which is exactly what it says on the tin. It's magic that speeds up your ability to think. When you're under its influence, it's like your mind's on full-automatic, spitting out thought after thought in rapid succession. And not only that, but the thoughts themselves are sharper and cleaner, leading to better comprehension and deeper insights. With this magic, proficiency is matter of speed. A novice can double their mental speed, while an adept can quadrupedal. A master, which I am, can accelerate their thoughts by as much as ten times their normal speed.

Finally, cognitive amplification is a form of supplemental mind magic, used to create synergy between multiple thought processes, be they between multiple thought partitions within a single mind, or multiple minds linked together. Essentially, it creates a sort of meta-thought process, allowing one of more psychomancers to think about what they're thinking about. This one doesn't really have different levels of proficiency; if you can do it, you can do it, if you can't, you can't.

So, now that you've got a bare bones of it, let's do a little math:

A normal person has one mental room, capable of completing one mental calculation at a time, at the completely arbitrary rate of say, one calculation a second.

With thought partitioning, I can create and maintain seven mental rooms, each capable of processing one calculation at a time, for a total of seven mental calculations a second. Throw in some cognitive amplification, and those seven partitions become synergistic, thinking not just about the problem itself, but about what all the other partitions are thinking about the problem, turning seven mental calculations a second into forty-nine. And then, let's accelerate all those thoughts, multiplying those forty-nine mental calculations in _490_.

490 mental calculations in the same time it takes a normal person to perform _one_.

Twenty-four hours, minus six for sleep, and another four for food, breaks and general upkeep, leaves fourteen hours a day. Five days makes seventy hours, which is 4,200 minutes, and 4,200 minutes makes 252,000 seconds. Keeping to the arbitrary base rate of one calculation a second, then that's 252,000 mental calculations over five days for a normal, base-line human. At 490 calculations a second, that's 123,480,000, which equates to 2,058,000 minutes, 33,300 hours, 1429 days, or _nearly four years_.

Can you see now, why I got a little frustrated with the situation? All that processing power, backed by fifteen years worth of magical education in one form or another, and I still couldn't find the problem with my math.

I'm not exactly proud of it, but, well, I'm _Harry Potter_. It's not like I think I'm some kind of super-wizard who can do anything I set my mind to, just because I'm me – I know there are things I'm never going to be any good at, several things in fact – but with the things I _do_ set my mind, the things I _know_ I'm good at? I don't handle failure all that well. It tends to make me obstinate and overly determined, which usually ends up sublimated into extensive property damage.

Fortunately, the outpost came though this latest monument to human stubbornness intact.

My dignity, on the other hand... not so much.

Have you ever heard of Schrödinger's cat? It's a thought experiment used to explain certain interpretations of quantum mechanics. You put a cat in a box, and arrange it so that the cat has a fifty-fifty chance of dying within an hour. At the end of that hour, until you check the state of the cat, it can be said to be both alive _and_ dead, simultaneously. No-maj physicists call this quantum superposition, but we wizards refer to it as potentiation.

Thought refraction, my aforementioned poor decision, is a mind magic that uses this principle to potentiate your thought processes into multiple divergent streams. It's like thought partitioning, in that it gives you the ability to perform multiple calculations, but rather than divide your mental room into a series of smaller rooms that all work towards solving the same problem, it creates an imaginary copy of your room that can work on a completely different problem. Multi-tasking at its finest.

It's a really tricky bit of magic, though. Even with my extensive background in mind magic, I can only manage to create a single copy reliably. Not that I tried all that hard, to be honest, since I did and do prefer thought partitioning - a fact that I'm now kicking myself over. Maybe if I'd studied it a little harder, I'd have known not to try putting the two together.

Why is that, you ask?

Take a thought, accelerate it, and you've got a thought ratio of 10:1.

Take a accelerated thought, and place it in seven mental rooms, all working in parallel, and that ration multiplies to 70:1.

Take seven mental rooms, and set them thinking about each other, and that ratio jumps to 490:1.

Now take all of that, and potentiate it?

2,401:1

I lasted ten minutes and thirty-three seconds - that's 422 hours worth of normal mental calculation, or seventeen and a half days, for the more mathematically inclined - before my brain told me to go and bugger myself on a pickaxe, sideways.

The good news is that I solved the problem; I was confusing the subconscious projection of my own innate magic for pseudo-sentience within dark energy, which completely skewed the physical versus metaphysical property variable. The bad news is that my brain, maybe, sort of, overheated. Just a little. Okay, it was bad. I ended up seizing on the floor of the rec. room for a few minutes, and when it stopped, my synapses decided to lodge a complaint in the form of what is possibly the worst migraine I have ever experienced - Volde-visions included.

And what do you do when you're in pain? You try and stop the pain, which is where my ADV.I.S.R. comes in. Apparently, my omni-tool is the deluxe 'Emergency' model, because in addition to affecting repairs, it's also capable of basic medical diagnosis, which triggered when I first seized. When I came out of it, my ADV.I.S.R. recommended I either call for immediate assistance, or visit the nearest medical facility for treatment. Since I obviously couldn't call for help, I dragged my sorry ass to the med bay, where my ADV.I.S.R. recommended I take an evil little drug called polypseudomorphine.

I woke up the next day, buck naked on top of the garage with an omni-tool full of very embarrassing logs that will never see the light of day, and a number of memories I may never recover from.

Fucking space drugs.

I reiterate: never again.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 13, 2176

Great news, guys! With the subconscious projection/pseudo-sentience issue properly sorted, and the right physical versus metaphysical property variables accounted for, I've been able to make some real progress towards adapting my spell arsenal. Even without my psychomancy - which I've decided to ease up on for the sake of my health - I've been able to modify several of my spells using the formulas derived from the seven basic biotic skills mentioned in Dr. V'Seer's articles, and they all work beautifully.

For the record, that's Barrier to Shield charm, Lift to Levitation charm, Pull to Summoning charm, Throw to Banishing charm, Singularity to Anti-Gravity charm, Stasis to Freezing charm, and Warp to Disintegration curse. There are some differences between the new versions and the originals, obviously, but that's to be expected since dark energy isn't actually magic. Mostly its a loss of intuitive functions, like the summoning charm's ability to identify a target by designation, and some loss of utility, such as the shield charm's ability to block thermal energy. It's not all bad, though; there's also a massive increase in raw kinetic power. Of the 'I could probably pick up and throw one of these modules if I put my back into it' kind.

Things are finally – Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope, _nope_! Fate is way too invested in fucking with me already, there's no way I'm going to throw down that kind of challenge. See, Hermione, I _can_ learn.

So! Where was I? Right. So that's seven spells, out of the few dozen I'm capable of using wandlessly. I won't bother reworking most of them, since the majority are just small things for the sake of convenience, but now that I've got the basics of it down, it shouldn't take me long to adapt the ones I do need.

The Structural Grasping charm, definitely, and maybe a few other diagnostic spells. The Supersensory charm, as well. And I can't forget Silence and Invisibility charms, either.

But that can be tomorrow's problem. For now, I'm taking a well-earned night off.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 13, 2176 (2)

Thank you, Dr. Mary Sutherland, Dr. Judith Lane, for the wonderful gift that is _Blasto: The Jellyfish Stings_ , _Blasto Saves Christmas_ , and _Blasto: From Thessia, with Love_.

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 19, 2176

So, it's been, wow, nearly a month since I arrived at the outpost, and I think I'm about as ready as I'm going to be if I want to check out Dr. Clarke's hunch.

My structural and elemental transmutation still isn't as refined as what it was before all this, but the increased range – and wasn't that a nice surprise! – more than makes up for it. Between that and the wandless magic I've finished reworking and remastering, I should, theoretically, be able to handle anything these alleged ruins might throw at me. Or at least, long enough to run away, anyhow.

According to Dr. Clarke's report, the ruins are located roughly 500 kilometres inland, and somewhere around 150 metres below ground. That's a seven hour round trip in the survey pod, and just under half a tank of fuel, not counting however long it take me to create passage down. I think I'll just stick to a flyover first; run the deeper scans Clarke recommended, and get a better idea of what's down there. I don't want to waste my time shifting 12,000 m3 worth of dirt, only to find out that Clarke was wrong. Besides, it's not like I'm going to run out of fuel, since Helium-3's easy to transmute from Carbon, which I have in abundance.

If I want to get there, run the scans, and get back before nightfall, I'll have to leave in the next hour or two. Because I really don't want to run into any of Sidereus' overly-large aerial night-hunting lizard-birds. Not in an unarmoured survey pod, and especially not when Dr. Castleman referred to them as dragons without any sense of irony.

Yeah, I should probably get ready to leave.

END LOG

* * *

CODEX ENTRY - LOCAL SOURCE/SIDEREUS EXP./SIDEREUS: FAUNA/GREATER DRAGON HAWK

COMMON NAME: Greater Dragon Hawk

TAXONOMY: Draconis accipiter chryseus (lit. Golden Dragon Hawk)

HABITAT: Mountain aeries and skies above Panteran rainforests

BASIC ANATOMY: Closely related to the much smaller Mountain Dragons. Striped black, bronze and yellow, with scarlet crests and tail streamers. Reinforced bone crests on top of the skull and beneath the jaw, used to injure prey or cut vegetation. Distensible jaw with folding backwardly curved teeth teeth. A large brain case. Two pairs of membranous wings stretched over carbon fibre bone structure. Two membranous tail streamers for delicate flight control. Powerful claws for grasping and perching. Flow-through ventilation for thermal regulation.

FEEDING ECOLOGY: Apex aerial predator. Carnivore. Solitary hunter. Primarily feeds on smaller fliers such as Mountain and Forest Kites. Can also feed below forest canopy on ground animals.

SIZE: Males are 15 to 18 metres from head to tail base, 25 to 28 metres from head to tail streamers, with a 30 to 35 metre wingspan. Females are between 20 to 30% larger.

DESCRIPTION:

The Greater Dragon Hawk shares the same six-limbed morphology common to Siderean fauna, with a flight profile similar to that of an Earth hawk. It has one pair of primary flight wings, with a second, smaller pair further back to aid with maneuverability, and a pair of powerful legs for grasping prey and perching. Its wings are composed of individual finned members that can separate to act as a slotted airfoil, or overlap and seal to form a solid surface. When separated, they can rotate individually to induce or retard vortex formation. These finned members are not unlike the primary feathers of many Earth birds. It also has two short tails that are highly sensitive to changes in air currents, alerting it to anything approaching from behind.

The Dragon Hawk has four large golden eyes with black pupils. Its two main eyes are forward facing and located at the front of the skull, while the second set are side-facing, and set into the side of the skull, giving it an incredible field of vision. They see in near infrared, for night hunting, and are highly sensitive to motion. All four eyes are protected by lids and by transparent nictating membranes, much like an eagle eye. Despite their impressive sight, the Dragon Hawk is unable to see directly above it, most likely due to the very pronounced brow ridges above its eyes.

Due to its size, the Dragon Hawk is not a dense jungle hunter, but has very little trouble on the plains or near cliffs or mountains, where it can feed on mid-sized animals. The Dragon Hawk has powerful jaws which can open at a wide angle, with folding backwardly curved teeth that hook into prey, making it difficult to escape from a successful bite. The crest on its head is razor sharp and can be used to injure or disembowel prey, or cut vegetation obstructing flight.

Though reptilian at first glance, the Greater Dragon Hawk has a metabolism comparable to more bird-like species, and generates tremendous heat. As a result, the Greater Dragon Hawk has evolved a complex cooling system to keep it from overheating during strenuous flight. Central to this, is its secondary respiration system. When in flight, the jaw remains shut and spiracles open at the top of the chest cavity, like air intakes on sub-orbital aircraft. The Dragon Hawk's lungs act as bellows, pulling air in, then venting it through gill-like slits in its back.

The Greater Dragon Hawk is a highly territorial predator, and should be avoided if at all possible.

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 19, 2176 (2)

-the teeth, watch the teeth! Shit, shit, fuck, shit! Merlin's saggy left nut! I know, I know! Stop fucking beeping at me, I know! SHIT!

Why won't you just– you did not just–

Oh, you can fuck right off, you bastard!

No, no, N-

END LOG

* * *

PERSONAL LOG ENRTY: JANUARY 19, 2176 (3)

I've said it once, and I'll say it again as many times as it takes for the message to sink in: Fate is a stone-cold sadistic bitch with a ten-inch strap-on, and when she decides you're due for a good, hard fucking, she doesn't bother with lube, she just bends you over and gives it to you, hard and fast.

Since it looks like I accidentally hit the journal application there, at least for a few seconds, you probably figured out that I had an... _encounter_ with one of those night-hunting lizard-birds I was telling you about. Of course, by encounter, I mean flying for my life through a giant glowing rainforest, dodging serrated teeth the length of my hand and bone blades the length of my torso, all of which were attached to a highly territorial apex predator with an attitude to make the Hungarian Horntail from fourth year look like a mildly ill-tempered hufflepuff, but that's just semantics.

I'd refuelled the pod, made the three hour trip inland to where Dr. Clarke estimated the ruins – if they were ruins – would be located, and run several sweeps with the pod's sophisticated ground-penetrating radar system. Everything was going according to plan, which should have been a warning all on its own, because not ten minutes after the last scan finished and I started back to the outpost, every electromagnetic sensor started shrieking and the cockpit went dark as a very large something blocked out the sun above me.

The next few seconds were mostly instinct and experience; I dived hard, plunging the pod down through the canopy to buy myself as much time, distance and cover as I could. The sound of branches snapping and clawing at the hull of the pod was almost deafening, like hail against a tin roof, but even that wasn't loud enough to drown out the thunderous roar that followed me down. I had barely punched through the bottom of the canopy when there was an almighty crash behind me, and the path my pod had cut through the foliage erupted in an explosion of torn and sundered branches.

I saw it then, on the rear-view camera, the very thing I'd wanted to avoid: a Golden Dragon Hawk, which lived up to its name in every way, except for the fire-breathing. It was... massive doesn't really cover it. It had to be at least 30 metres long from head to tail with a wingspan like you wouldn't believe. Striped black, yellow and bronze, with these huge scarlet crest on its head, like guillotine blades. And teeth, sweet Circe, it's _teeth_. Big enough to put the basilisk's to shame.

Survey pods aren't made for evasive manoeuvres, but I'm _Harry Bloody Potter_ , so I made it work. I dodged and swooped, dived and juked. My world narrowed, and everything else faded away, until all I could think about was surviving the next second, and then the next, and the next. I weaved around thick boughs, skimmed across any available flat surfaces, and threaded my pod through impossible spaces.

And every step of the way – every gods damned step – the Dragon Hawk followed me. It came at me like... like... I don't even have a simile for just how fast and furious it was. If I didn't know better, I'd say I insulted its mother, fucked its sister, and made intimations about the parentage of its kids. And it really, _really_ wanted to eat me for it. It came damned close a few times, too, and those big crests on its head? Not just for show.

The whole things was... sweet Circe, there's probably something seriously wrong with me, but it was amazing. I've never had to fly for my life like that, and the adrenaline... it's been hours and I'm still a little shaky.

You're probably wondering how I got away, though, right? Remember the part where I called it a highly territorial apex predator? Put the emphasis on highly territorial, and you might have an idea. Yeah, that's right. I dodged around a giant tree hoping to escape one overly aggressive lizard-bird, only to run into another, very nearly literally. It was only because I was hugging the tree bough close enough to leave scratches in the bark that I missed clipping its wing as it curved around the trunk in the opposite direction. The one chasing me though, wasn't so lucky. Imagine a pair of great white sharks with wings and blood in the water, and you've got a good idea of what followed. I didn't stick around to watch the bloodbath; I put the pair firmly in my rear-view, and got the hell out of there.

Since I didn't want to risk running into another flying death machine, I found a quiet little spot up in the canopy to set down on. I'll wait here until dawn, then haul ass back to the outpost for recover and repair. And in the meantime, I'll start going through some of these scans to see if this was all worth it.

Night.

END LOG


End file.
